TextEdit rant, pre-4/20 house party.
We’ve been on the road now for a little over a week, but the day we left home feels like yesterday in one regard and eternity in another. One minute we’re counting cables and cords before we put them in the trailer on our way out of New Orleans, and the next we’re coming home at 6:30am from raging all night in New York City. House parties like the one in Charlottesville instantly conjure sights and smells so vivid you’d think you were still there. How do we still have 3 weeks of this left? How did we even pull this off? Are we pulling this off? How does George sleep so fucking much? The answers to these questions may be brought to fruition when we play our last show on the rooftop of the Redmont hotel in Birmingham, but if they don’t I don’t really care. The memories of my entire band plus about 20 people streaking on the lawn of UVA, George bringing the entire club’s attention to him after he makes an obscene comment when the other band breaks after playing a song, and being shocked by the sheer unadulterated hotness of every other co-ed in Charleston remind me daily of why I love doing this so much. That is all.
- T.
